


In the Dark, Breathing Together

by cwtalton



Category: Heartstopper (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Nathan is very tall and Youssef is very small, Paris trip, Sharing a Bed, What Have I Done, fallen in love with a small side pairing?, you bet your ass i have
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwtalton/pseuds/cwtalton
Summary: Youssef Farouk really didn't want to chaperone this school trip to Paris.In fact, he almost said no.~Yes, I have fallen in love with another minor side pairing. Yes, I have written 75,000 words about them. No, I regret nothing.
Relationships: Nathan Ajayi/Youssef Farouk
Comments: 45
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

He might’ve said no. When he thought about it later, he thought about how easy it would have been for him to pass, to make up some excuse about prior engagements, or family events, and left it to some other poor teacher.

If it hadn’t been for the pay bonus, and the fact that his roommate was driving him absolutely insane. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was nearly dying, coming out of his skin, stuck in the same rut he’d been in for years, itching to get out of his daily life and into something else. If it hadn’t been for that. He might’ve said no.

He might’ve, but he didn’t.

Which is how he found himself on a bus heading for Paris, with sixty-odd loud, horny teenagers behind him, his only backup a tall, skinny teacher from Higgs School whom Youssef barely knew, but who was one of those people who are so infuriatingly good looking that it almost hurts to look at them.

He was trying to ignore that. Trying instead to focus on the fact that it was so annoying that Nathan, Mr. Ajayi, was so chipper, so willing to go with the flow, that he, Youssef, was forced to be the bad cop. A trend that he was sure would continue throughout the trip.

And for the most part, it did. Nathan would bring his positive attitude to walking tours, a trip to the Louvre, and even one incident where a student passed out in the heat, and Youssef would grump at the kids until they understood that stepping out of line in a foreign country would not be tolerated.

That, at least, was what he expected. And Paris as well, grimy and hot and horrible to get around, met every single one of Youssef’s low, low expectations.

The one thing that didn’t, though. That was Nathan. Nathan who had come out to Youssef, matter-of-fact, the night after the first trip meeting.

“I’m gay,” he’d said, once the students and parents had trickled out of the room, leaving only Youssef and this tall, handsome man who was looking at him earnestly through his glasses, freckles peppered over his cheeks, eyes and skin a warm brown that made Youssef feel a slight blush creeping onto his face.

He imagined then, briefly, a world where he could say what he wanted in response.

“Me too,” he would say, and the words would come smoothly off his tongue. There’d be no drag of guilt as old as time itself, no echo of his father’s disappointed voice in the saying of it, no desire to hide himself. There’d be confidence, there’d be love for it, the concept of loving outside of limitations, there’d be an ownership of that side of himself.

What he actually said was something more along the lines of “Huh?”

“I’m gay,” Nathan had said again, gathering permission slips into a black folder and not meeting Youssef’s eye. “I just wanted you to know that going in. We’re sharing a room and all that. I just wanted that to be in the open.”

“Oh, uh,” Youssef said. “That’s not a– I mean. Um. Thank you for telling me. It’s not an issue.”

Nathan looked up at him then, head jerking up just a little bit too fast, and Youssef was sure he caught the edges of a blush on Nathan’s cheeks before he turned away.

“Should be an interesting trip,” he’d said, then.

He might’ve said no.

~ 

Nathan continued to surprise Youssef in little ways over the course of the trip. He was upbeat and kind to the students, sure. But when he and Youssef were sitting at the hotel bar after the kids were long asleep and room checks had been performed, he had a dark sense of humor and once made a vodka soda shoot out of Youssef’s nose, much to his utter mortification. He loved to needle Youssef, to poke cracks in his carefully put-together armor.

"You don’t smile a lot, you know that?” he said, second night of the trip, just after Youssef had crawled into bed and switched the lamp off.

“Yes,” Youssef had said, deadpan. “I am aware.” 

Nathan had snorted. “Why don’t you?”

“I have what the kids are calling a ‘Resting Bitch Face.’ Born with it, you know.”

Nathan really laughed at that, and then had fallen silent. Youssef thought he had fallen asleep. Nathan seemed to fall right into sleep that way, almost mid-sentence. Youssef would toss and turn and be up half the night, all while Nathan snored quietly, five feet away.

“Your face is different when you smile,” he’d said, though. Not asleep after all. His voice had that rich, raspy quality of a person just on the verge of dreaming.

Youssef swallowed. “Different how?” he’d whispered.

“Lighter, you know? Someone I feel like I could know. Frowning you is definitely a closed door. Smiling you, though? He could be my friend.”

And Youssef hadn’t quite known _what_ to say to that. So he’d just feigned sleep. Pretended the conversation never happened. Pretended he wasn’t completely shaken by the words.

~

It was little things like that. Things that Nathan kept doing. Things that Youssef kept tripping over as the trip progressed. That time Nathan bought Youssef a croissant, pain au chocolat (because Nathan had noticed Youssef’s preference for them?), without being asked, just handed it to him in its crinkly paper bag with a half smile that made Youssef’s heart race. The time they’d gotten drunk in their room and Nathan had imitated the other tourists they’d seen that day with such accuracy that Youssef had laughed until he couldn’t breathe. The time that one of the students had fainted, and Nathan had dealt with it with such care that Youssef’s breath caught a little bit. Walking along behind their kids, Nathan relaxed and Youssef constantly on edge, he’d say things that were surprising and funny and cutting, and Youssef felt like he was constantly rearranging the way that he thought of this man.

“I’m not straight either,” Youssef finally said, the same night as the tourist impressions. “I am also gay, in fact.”

Too much French wine slurred his words, but he didn’t think it was the alcohol that made it look like Nathan’s eyes widened, surprised and a bit pleased.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said. Youssef shrugged. 

“Not very many people know,” he said, and left it at that. There was more he could’ve said. More he thought about as the trip went on. When they caught two boys by the vending machine, and Nathan looked after them with a knowing expression on his face, saying something about sneaking away with a boy you like, Youssef’s heart twisted.

“Come on, you never snuck off with a boy on a school trip when you were their age?”

Youssef answered without thinking.

“Well, when you don’t come to terms with your sexuality until your mid-twenties, you tend to miss out on all those beautiful gay teenage experiences.”

And he almost froze. Why had he said that? It’s not something he generally liked to think about. The way that life had passed him by for so long, his heart straining one way, his head sensibly forcing it back into place. The fear of what would happen if he actually gave into the thoughts that ran across his mind from time to time, terrifying if left unchecked. What would occur if he let himself look at boys the way he sometimes caught himself wanting to? What would it mean if he was looking at them not because he wanted to mirror their behavior, fit in where he could, act as normal as possible, but because he wanted to be with them? What would that mean for him, as boy raised in a Muslim world, a boy who put his family above anything else, even when his faith in that world started to wane, a boy who had expectations placed upon him, expectations that he wasn’t sure he could meet, even without his tendency to dream about boys the way he was meant to dream about girls.

And then, beyond that, when he had finally let himself think about the fact the he clearly was not falling on the “right” side of the binary, it seemed to be too late. Everyone that he knew who was queer and his age had already been through that time of figuring it out. They were all past the moments of kissing someone and having that thrill of it being real for the first time. They were all moving on from the awkward fumbling of figuring out how to not-be-straight. And Youssef had missed the bus. He wasn’t even sure how to begin to dive into his newly-accepted dating pool. He’d only kissed one man in his entire life, and though it had been enough to tell him what he needed to know, one kiss did not a wealth of experience make.

There was already something inherently uncomfortable about accepting a new facet of your identity, even one that you suspected was there all along. But accepting this part of yourself, while simultaneously realizing that you were almost too late in doing so, that was something else altogether. It was a double loss: the loss of the easy life you would have had if you could have ignored that side of yourself, and the loss of that small window of time that you had to accept that side of yourself alongside everyone else.

“Bit late for me to have any youthful moments of discovery,” he said quickly, just eager to leave the subject behind.

But Nathan was quiet for a moment, hunched over the vending machine.

“I don’t think there’s an age limit on that, to be honest,” he said, and there was a new layer of warmth in his voice. Almost like a wink.

Youssef hid his pleasure at the words with a joke.

“Ha. You flirting with me?”

Nathan stood, suddenly too close for comfort, the huff of his breath against Youssef’s nose as he looked up into Nathan’s eyes–he is so stupidly tall, so stupidly handsome–and smirked.

“Maybe.”

Then he turned abruptly, and it’s all Youssef can do not to fall forward in his wake. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he is, what he was meant to be doing. The only thing he could see was the warm darkness of Nathan’s eyes.

Nathan, who had done nothing but tease and needle Youssef. Who has been funny and warm and kind, who had been the only reason Youssef has kept his sanity on this trip.

he only thing he could think in that moment was how badly he wanted to push himself up, just a bit, onto his toes, make himself more even with Nathan’s face, all soft curves meeting with sharp angles. How badly he wanted to take his face in his own hands and put his mouth against Nathan’s, to feel how he would react if Youssef had the nerve to do it. To maybe even feel Nathan kiss him back,

Nathan turned back, just for a moment.

“We’d better get back to our room, hm? Come on.”

All Youssef could do was follow, dumb, head swirling with images, fantasies of what it would feel like to kiss this man, to hold him and feel nothing except the pleasure of it. No guilt or awkwardness, no feeling unsure.

They got back to their room and Nathan excused himself to take a shower, leaving Youssef sitting on his bed, mindlessly flipping through channels of French television and trying very hard _not_ to think about Nathan.

He was dozing off when Nathan came back into the room, almost asleep but still very aware of the movements of the other person, opening drawers and pulling fabric over his head.

Youssef was almost well and truly asleep when there was a loud knock at the door, followed by the very distinct sound of Tara Jones yelling his name.

He jerked awake, then ran a very tired hand over his face and went to the door, already dreading what would be on the other side of it, even before he say Darcy Olsson, clearly drunk, slumped in Tara’s arms.

What unfolded over the next fifteen minutes was a scene out of Youssef’s nightmares, and very nearly brought him to the edge of a mental breakdown in which he questioned every single choice he’d made over the course of his life that had led him to this point: watching a sixteen year old girl vomit on Nathan’s bed as several of her classmates looked on in horror.

Once they’d gotten the clearly traumatized Darcy back to her room, with the help of the mercifully sober Tara, once they’d cleared the sheets off of Nathan’s bed and sent them straight away with a horrified-looking housekeeper, once they’d seen that all the rest of their students were alright, once they’d been quietly assured by Charlie Spring that no one else had had very much to drink at all, once they got back to their now quiet room, once they’d sat on the edge of Youssef’s bed, side by side, glasses of wine in hand and legs touching just slightly, Youssef let out a breath.

“Disaster,” he said. 

“Definitely could have been worse though,” Nathan said, sipping his wine. Youssef watched his Adam’s apple bob out of the corner of his eye. “I suppose we’ll have to call down and ask them to send up a spare set of sheets.”

Youssef sipped his wine, and his mouth acted without his brain’s permission.

“Or you could share my bed,” he said. Then immediately clamped his lips shut and thought briefly about taking a vow of silence for the rest of his living days.

Nathan said nothing.

“No- sorry. Stupid idea,” Youssef said, standing and moving towards the door. “I’ll go down and get you some sheets.”

But before he could go, before he was quite out of reach, he felt a warm hand clasp his own forearm gently, tugging him back.

Nathan stood, faced Youssef, eyes darting all over his face as if to say “are you here? in the way I think that you are?”

And Youssef forced himself to look back, with all his armor stripped away. As if to say, “I am. I am. I am.”

“I don’t think that’s a stupid idea,” said Nathan. Youssef laughed, weak. Nathan tugged him closer, hand moving to the side of Youssef’s face, stroking the skin there so gently that Youssef thought for a moment that he really hadn’t ever been touched before. Not like this.

They moved at the same time, so slow and too fast all at the same time. Youssef’s eyes were closed even before he realized what was happening, and his body moved on instinct.

Their mouths brushed once, soft. Youssef’s spine straightened at the contact, and he let out a small gasp despite himself. He felt Nathan’s mouth, still lingering on his own, curve into a smirking kind of smile, and he felt his knees go a bit weak, leaning into Nathan for balance, not daring to break the kiss.

He deepened it, hands moving to Nathan’s back, up underneath the jumper he was wearing, and he was rewarded by Nathan’s shivers, which made him groan a little even as he shook.

They moved backwards, stumbling onto the bed that had been Youssef’s and was now _theirs_ , if only for one night. Youssef scrambling to put his knees on either side of Nathan’s hips, kissing him deeply, his tongue slipping into Nathan’s warm mouth and Nathan’s hands roving over Youssef’s body, both strong and careful.

The kissing made him forget about what had happened with Darcy, made him forget that children were even a thing that existed out in the world, because the world that existed outside of that hotel room outside of that moment, didn’t matter.

What mattered were the little pants that Nathan made as Youssef moved to kiss his neck, his throat, the base of his ear right underneath the lobe, lingering there in a way that was dangerous. What mattered was the way Nathan grumbled and flipped them over and tugged off his jumper, so all Youssef could see was clean lines, soft skin, the blinding white of a smile. What mattered was tugging off his own shirt, wanting to be skin to skin even as he was fairly sure nothing more than this kissing would happen that night. What mattered was the way Nathan kissed him down his torso, hungrily, as if it was the thing he liked best, and then came back up to Youssef’s mouth with a little laugh of delight. What mattered was Youssef kissing him back, forgetting that he didn’t know what it was that he was doing, forgetting everything except the fact that this felt **damn** good, felt like something he deserved, something that he could have, without worrying about the fact that he could have been having it before, if he wasn’t such a coward.

He didn’t feel like a coward right then. He felt like someone brave, someone who could kiss a man this kind, this gentle, this genuinely lovely and belong there. He allowed himself to be swept away in the pleasure of it, the slide of their chests together and the way their lips seemed to fit just in the nicest way. They’d kiss for awhile, and then slow down, murmuring quietly to one another about nothing at all, and then Youssef would say something, something dumb or biting, because his guard was down, and there Nathan would be, propped back on his elbow and kissing Youssef again, tongue sliding into his mouth and hand dipping down to hook a finger around the waistband of his pajama pants, tugging him in and growling into the kiss in a way that turned everything molten.

It went on for a long time. Youssef wasn’t sure how long, just that his eyes were so heavy but he never wanted to close them because that would be the end of it and he never ever wanted to stop kissing this man. It was only when he yawned in the middle of a kiss that Nathan pulled away, laughing, eyes bright and mouth swollen ( _Youssef_ had done that) and said they should get some rest.

Youssef nodded, half asleep already, smiling despite himself when Nathan scooped him into his arms and pulled him close.

“Youssef?” Nathan said. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Youssef was already asleep and this Nathan was a dream. “You’re really quite beautiful, you know.”

But Youssef was already asleep. 

Wasn't he?


	2. Stay: Awhile and Awhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God! Sorry!" Nathan says. "Don't wanna kill you before we even go out, do I?"
> 
> "No," Youssef says, deadpan. "Surely we should save the murder for afterwards.”
> 
> "Absolutely right," Nathan says, stepping back, hands dropping from Youssef's shoulders.
> 
> They stare at each other for a minute, until they both break into laughter. the entire thing, Nathan's bouncing energy, the fact that Youssef had almost toppled into the street, the way Nathan's glasses were sitting ajar on his face, make the nerves and the walls and the awkwardness dissolve.
> 
> "Shall we?" Nathan says.
> 
> ~~
> 
> Can Nathan and Youssef transfer one accidental Parisian kiss into an equally incredible first date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of ? of my series about the teachers from Heartstopper! This follows directly from the first chapter, and since I got a lot of questions asking me to post more, I decided to do so! I have a lot written about these two, so if y'all like this, let me know and I can keep posting! 
> 
> Okay! I hope you love Nathan and Youssef as much as I do! Thank you for reading!

The bus ride back, through the rolling French countryside and back home, has Youssef’s stomach in knots. He’s beside Nathan, their arms brushing as they each read or scroll through their phones, but neither one of them are talking. And Youssef can’t tell if that’s because things are getting awkward between them or because they’ve got a bus filled with teenagers at their backs. 

In any case, he’s jittery and jumpy as they stand in the parking lot, waiting for all the students to be picked up as the sun sets. When the last kid gets picked up and it’s just Youssef and Nathan in the warm night, he turns to Nathan, unable to hold his tongue. 

"Nathan," he says, breathless, and then Nathan is grinning at him, his face open. "I wanted to tell you– that. Oh. I mean. Last night was really amazing. And I would love-I mean, I wouldn't mind, you know–"

Nathan steps in, ending Youssef’s misery. 

"I'd like to do it again too," he says, eyes crinkling in delight. 

"Maybe on a night when we're not responsible for ten thousand sixteen-year-olds?" Youssef says, allowing himself a small grin.

"That would be ideal, yes."

By this point, they’ve reached Youssef’s car, Youssef dropping his bag in the backseat as Nathan leans on the driver’s side door. 

"So," Nathan says, grinning and cheeky. 

"So" says Youssef, feeling a spark of bravery.

"Would you want to go to do dinner with me?"

"Mmmm..." Youssef says. "French food?"

Nathan laughs, the sound surprised and echoing in the empty lot. 

“Not what I was thinking. Anything but, really,” he said, chuckling. 

“Then yes. Absolutely."

And then Nathan reaches for him, looking around the lot and seeing that it is indeed truly empty. He pulls Youssef into a hug. Youssef sighs, feeling something like warmth spreading through his chest. 

Then Youssef pushes away a bit, still encircled by Nathan's arms. Surprising himself, he goes onto his tiptoes and kisses Nathan soundly, hands flat on Nathan's chest, wanting, so suddenly, to ball Nathan's shirt in his fists and pull him as close as he can possibly get

But he doesn't, just kisses him, chaste, and then pushes Nathan away.

“Name the day," he says. "I will try to be there."

"You'll try?"

"I'll be there."

Nathan smiles, the sun on his face. 

They say their quiet goodbyes, and Youssef is tentative, and hopeful. He's not sure if Nathan will actually follow up, and he doesn't want to let himself get too involved before anything happens, but he really really hopes that Nathan will call or text or whatever

He gets a Chinese takeaway on his way home, goes back to his apartment, avoids his terrible roommate, and gets into bed, happy to see his cat, Archie, for the first time in days but aware that he's become weirdly used to Nathan being in the room with him while he's getting ready for bed. 

And there's a little ache in his throat when he realizes that. Which makes him think back to how peaceful he felt, waking up next to Nathan that morning. 

They’d fallen asleep after the kiss, Youssef’s back pressed to Nathan’ chest. After a while, Youssef (terrible sleeper as he is) had woken up in a bit of a panic, not knowing where he was or what he was doing.

The panic is only broken by Nathan’s soft voice and strong arms, pulling him back in and murmuring soothing words to him. It made Youssef realize that it was real, snuggling back down and letting Nathan curl up close. 

It was almost funny, laying there, because Nathan is much taller than Youssef. But he wrapped himself around him while also laying on Youssef's chest, and the steady weight of him against Youssef put him right back to sleep.

And that's how they’d woken up, kind of weirdly entwined.

Youssef had woken up first and just laid there for a while. He’d held Nathan close to him, his hands running over Nathan’s arm, which had been flung across his stomach. There were so many words on his tongue. He’d wanted to tell Nathan that he really enjoyed kissing him, really liked being around him, and would like to continue doing both, but without pressuring Nathan if he didn’t want the same. 

But when Nathan had woken up, he just looked so soft and quiet that Youssef hadn’t said anything. 

All he could do was lean down and kiss him again, and the way Nathan opened up to that kiss was so innocent, so instantaneous, that Youssef felt something move inside of him. He thought that he could wake up and see Nathan’s bleary eyes, and the way the sleepy smile dragged across his face, every day. 

And as he’s sitting in his bed, back in England but mind still in that bed in Paris, his phone buzzes, shaking the memory from him. 

It's a text. "Weird not sharing a room with you,” Nathan has sent. 

Immediately, Youssef has to throw the covers off his legs, that's how warm he immediately gets. He stares at his phone for a second, weighing the options

He could be coy, or tease Nathan, or make a sarcastic comment.

Or, he could be genuine.

"I was just thinking the same thing, actually."

Genuine was all he could come up with in the end.

"Guess that means I need to see you again as soon as possible?"

"Hmm... I'll have to check my schedule. I might be totally booked up."

He was proud that he did manage to salvage a little bit of teasing after all. Just to save his reputation as a grump.

Then his phone was ringing.

He jumped, dropped it, then dug around frantically in his duvet until his hand closed around it.

"Hello?" he says, voice cracking a little. He closes his eyes in dismay, sinking into the pillows.

"That's not funny!" Nathan says in response, and Youssef can hear the smile in his voice. It's irrepressible, that smile.

"I thought it was kind of funny," Youssef says, a small smile curling the edge of his mouth, despite himself.

"You think I don't know you're a giant nerd whose only plans this weekend are to read books and speak to as few people as possible?"

Youssef makes a disgruntled sound. Nevermind that those were his only plans.

"Well!" he says. "That's a full schedule then! I have to decide if you can fit into my absolute max quota of people that I have to speak to in one weekend."

"Which is how many?" Nathan says, voice gentle, clearly teasing.

"Five."

"How about," Nathan says, voice going a bit molten. Youssef has no power against it, and ducks his head into the pillow, knowing that he's going to agree to whatever it is that Nathan is about to say. "You just go out with me then? You wouldn't even have to reach the max quota. Just talk to only me."

Youssef just lets out a long breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks he might actually pass out.

"So?" Nathan says after a minute. "What do you say? Tomorrow night?"

"Yes," Youssef says, voice quiet. A beat passes. "I'll pick you up."

"Oh?" Nathan says, laughing in surprise. "Will you?"

"Based on everything that I know about you, I can tell you're a terrible driver."

Nathan really laughs, then, and Youssef feels a little thrill from regaining the upper hand. There have been few things in his life that give him as much of a buzz as bantering with this man.

"You.... are not wrong. I ran into a bench the other day."

Youssef rolls his eyes.

"So, I'll pick you up. Around 6:30?"

“You can pick me up, but I'm choosing the place."

"Deal."

"Deal."

They're quiet for a moment, Youssef still pressing himself into his pillow, trying to still his heart and his breathing and the thoughts racing through his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Nathan says finally, his voice low.

"You will."

"Goodnight, Youssef."

Youssef shivers at the sound of his name in that voice, so gentle on the familiar syllables.

"Goodnight."

When they hang up, Youssef spends longer than he should, staring at his phone, thrilling a little when a text comes through with Nathan's address, followed by a "Can't wait! x."

He barely sleeps.

Really, he barely sleeps most of the time, but this is different. This is like when you were younger and you knew something exciting was going to happen the next day. Celebrating your birthday at school, or going on an exciting trip. That's the feeling: heady and fizzy and more than a little nervous. He tosses and turns most of the night with the memory of Nathan's body against his buzzing through his memory.

The next day is long.

He wakes up early, feeds Archie, and makes himself coffee. He looks over a few lesson plans that he had been working on before the trip, but the words and symbols swirl and lose their meaning, so eventually he gives up and slumps into the living room, where he spends the majority of the afternoon pretending to read and half heartedly cleaning things.

It's around 5 pm when he abandons all pretense of killing time and goes into his room to get ready.

He's not really sure what to expect, if he's being honest.

He keeps telling himself it's just a date. a first date. But something about it feels like more than that. Maybe it's because they've already kissed, already ran hands over the planes of each other's bodies, already know what it feels like to sleep in each other's arms.

So, in that way, he's not really sure what to expect.

He showers, taking extra care with everything, hands trembling a little bit every time his brain supplies a snippet of his night with Nathan.

He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, looks at himself in the mirror and wishes there was just something a little More to him. Other than brown skin, brown hair, brown eyes, slight frown permanently on his lips. He tries to smile, but it just makes him look crazy, so he looks away. Goes back into his room. Changes into a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. Considers. Throws on a sport jacket. Reconsiders. In the end, he keeps it on, ties on his coolest shoes, the white sneakers with sneaky rainbow soles that his sister got him for his birthday, that he desperately loves but never wears in public.

Before he can second guess anything, he grabs his keys and his wallet and leaves, shaking with nerves.

He pulls up to Nathan's building a few minutes later, gets out, and walks up to the door. He hits the button next to "Ajayi" on the list of tenants, and shifts from foot to foot, waiting.

"Hi! I'm coming right down!" Nathan's voice crackles over the speaker, sounding out of breath, like he's already smiling.

A moment later, Nathan comes out of the door, nearly running into Youssef standing on the stoop. He reaches out, laughing, steadying them both, warm hands on Youssef's shoulders, and his face is so bright and delighted that Youssef feels himself relax.

"God! Sorry!" Nathan says. "Don't wanna kill you before we even go out, do I?"

"No," Youssef says, deadpan. "Surely we should save the murder for afterwards.”

"Absolutely right," Nathan says, stepping back, hands dropping from Youssef's shoulders.

They stare at each other for a minute, until they both break into laughter. The entire thing--Nathan's bouncing energy, the fact that Youssef had almost toppled into the street, the way Nathan's glasses were sitting askew on his face--make the nerves and the walls and the awkwardness dissolve.

"Shall we?" Nathan says.

Youssef nods and turns to his car, opening the door for Nathan and blushing deeply when Nathan gently touches his cheek before getting in.

Nathan directs them to dinner, which is at an absolute hole in the wall Indian place that Nathan knows about and apparently goes to all the time, because the owner comes out and greets them both and gives them free appetizers and drinks on the house, and they sit at a table outside until a trellis of white flowers and Nathan can't stop smiling. Youssef slowly comes out of his shell as the meal goes on, and they talk about how they got into teaching and their families and the things that they wanted to be when they grew up.

By the end, they're both kind of buzzed and full of good food, and Youssef is all of a sudden talking about his sexuality and how he came to terms with it and how it took a long time for it to be comfortable, and Nathan is talking about how he has kind of a difficult relationship with his father, but that his mom and sister are his best friends. By the time they leave the restaurant, Youssef feels like an entire lifetime's worth of weight has been lifted off his back

And it's weird because he hadn't even really felt like he was keeping secrets before that. Sure, there were a lot of things that he kept to himself, but he always thought it was more just incidental than purposeful.

But in talking to Nathan, in wanting to know him and wanting to know Nathan in turn, he realizes that there were lots of things that he hadn't said on purpose, that maybe he had wanted to say, to someone who would listen, for a really long time.

Nathan, it seemed, was that person. It was like Youssef finally found a place where he had the freedom to say them. To say them and be understood.

Beyond that, it's a conversation where they're matching each other beat for beat. Not like Youssef is oversharing or Nathan is only being surface level. They both go into this tunnel where everything flows, and when they surface, it feels like they've known each other forever.

As they’re leaving, Youssef is buzzed and is kind of sad because he thinks, "That's it. We've had our date and now I'll go home and he'll go home and who knows when I'll see him again."

They get out onto the sidewalk and Youssef starts to walk back to his car, but then suddenly Nathan is there and his hands are reaching for Youssef and pulling him back, off the sidewalk and into a little alley behind the restaurant.

And then Nathan is kissing him again, finally. Youssef sighs into the kiss, pushing his hands into Nathan's shirt and bunching the fabric there, Nathan backing into the wall and Youssef flush against him, just kissing, Nathan's hands in his hair.

They pull away after a long moment, Youssef's eyes fluttering open to see Nathan's face, to see of course he's smiling, but smiling in the softest, most awed way.

Youssef feels himself blushing and looks away, embarrassed.

But Nathan's hand comes to his chin, tugging his attention back. He kisses Youssef's forehead, and sighs.

“Sorry," he says. "I just...really, really wanted to do that since I nearly killed you earlier."

Youssef clears his throat, but it comes out strangled.

"It's–uh. There's no apology necessary, yeah? I mean, I wanted to do that too. Clearly."

Nathan laughs and shoves Youssef lightly, "You're a real romantic talker, you know that?"

He's smiling again, and Youssef tentatively smiles back.

"Are you ready for part two of our date?"

"There's a part two?"

Nathan's eyes crinkle in mischief. "Of course there is. I don't wanna let you go just yet."

With that, he takes Youssef's hand and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. They walk like that, hand in hand, for a couple of blocks, and Youssef is surprised by how much he likes it. He'd never thought about holding hands with another man before. Not in public, at least. He always assumed if he did end up pursuing something with a man, it would be very much behind closed doors. But there, with Nathan tugging him along, his hand big and warm and comforting, Youssef wonders why he ever thought that in the first place. Holding Nathan's hand feels like the most natural thing in the world.

They walk for a while, until Nathan leads them to another place, another hole in the wall, this one a bar. Right when they walk in, Youssef starts laughing, and he really really wants to kiss Nathan again.

The sign, right at the front, says, "Underground Mel's Bar! Saturday Night: SCIENCE TRIVIA"

He turns to Nathan, "You do know how embarrassing it's going to be when I get everything wrong, yeah?"

Nathan shakes his head and steers Youssef towards an empty table. "No, I realize how great it's going to be when you get everything right and we win money."

He goes to the bar and buys Youssef a drink and an hour later they’ve absolutely crushed everyone at trivia. 

By then, Youssef is on the other side of buzzed and is holding Nathan's hand under the table as the bartender gives them the trivia prize, a plastic crown and a 50 pound note, which is kind of soaked in beer but Youssef doesn't care because he's having more fun than he can remember having. 

Then Nathan is wearing the crown with a cocky smile on his face and there are other people in the bar who are trying to talk to him, because of course they are, he's beautiful. But he's only looking at Youssef and there's a glint in his eyes like there's so many jokes between them, and Youssef guesses that, now, there are.

Finally, he can't take it anymore. He wants to kiss Nathan so bad he almost leans over and does it right there, in front of everyone. But something holds him back, as always. So he squeezes Nathan's hand instead and then looks towards the door, a questioning look on his face.

Nathan nods, and Youssef stands, going to the bar to settle the tab with his prize money, and then he's on the sidewalk with Nathan, Nathan's arm around him as they wait for a car to pick them up.

Youssef mumbles something about his car, but Nathan shushes him and says they'll figure it out tomorrow.

Then he turns to Youssef and tilts his head to the side, that damned smile still on his face

"Do you wanna come back to mine?" he asks.

Youssef stiffens, just for a second. It's not what he was expecting Nathan to say. But immediately, something in him is screaming yes. He doesn’t want to go back to his sad flat with his horrible roommates and his lonely, sparse room. He wants to stay with this man, with his bright smiles and warm touch. So, where normally Youssef would second guess every thought in his own mind, right now he’s sure.

"No pressure," Nathan says quickly. "I mean, we don't have to. I just don't really want this night to end."

For the first time, it's Nathan who is flustered and tripping over his words. For the first time, it's a blush that darkens his cheeks, not Youssef's.

And there's something about that--the sudden shyness when Nathan has been nothing but confidence since the moment they met--that makes everything in Youssef that  _ would _ resist this come tumbling down.

He's vulnerable. He's afraid that Youssef will say no.

"Yes," Youssef says. He'd chosen without realizing that it had already happened. Hours ago, even.

Nathan looks at him, eyes wide, smile even wider.

"Yes?'

Youssef lets his own face dissolve into a happy smile, too, and Nathan visibly reacts to it.

“Absolutely yes."

At that moment, the car pulls up, and for the next several minutes, they’re tense, sitting on opposite sides of the backseat, knowing and not knowing what’s to come.

Nathan's knee slides over to bump Youssef's once when the car takes a turn quicker than they expect, and the contact makes Youssef jump nearly out of his skin.

Then they're at Nathan's building, spilling onto the sidewalk and mumbling thanks to the driver, just standing there, facing each other, Youssef already breathing harder than he means to. 

"Are you sure about this?" Nathan says, reaching for him, resting his hands on Youssef's shoulder and the side of his neck. His fingers are cool and gentle and there's something hot in the pit of Youssef's stomach. He's not sure about a lot, but he's sure right then that he has never wanted anything as much as he wants Nathan. 

So he takes a deep breath, leaning into Nathan's touch. He feels the tension leak out of his shoulders and his hands and his face.

"Yes,” he says.

Then, he's on his toes, his arms around the back of Nathan's neck, pulling his face close, so close their breath clashes in the space between them. Nathan's eyes behind his glasses are liquid, crinkled at the edges, so kind that Youssef feels an unexpected wave of emotion.

They're kissing, again, finally, and it's hotter and more encompassing than the one from the alley. This one is immediately the suggestion of more, open mouths and chests sliding together and more than they really should be doing out here on the sidewalk, but Youssef really can't bring himself to care.

Nathan pulls away after a moment, gasping, and it gives Youssef a little thrill that he is capable of doing that to this strong, perpetually grinning man. 

"Come upstairs," he says, voice leaning towards pleading. 

"Hmm...what's in it for me?" Youssef whispers, his voice rough and clearly teasing, unable to resist one last jab before he gives into whatever Nathan wants.

Nathan considers him, one side of his mouth tugged up. He moves closer, kissing Youssef once, long and slow, then moving to his cheek, then his neck, lingering there, his teeth scraping lightly over the skin.

"You'll have to come and see, I suppose," he says, still lingering there, voice vibrating against Youssef's throat. 

And then he's spinning away, walking up the stairs. Youssef is dazed and all he can do is follow, brain not even registering the stairs, or the door to Nathan's apartment, or really the apartment itself, not really coming back to himself until he's standing in the doorway of Nathan's room.

Nathan is sitting on the edge of his bed, which is large and simple, with a white duvet and big forest green pillows leaning against a wall that is covered in a mural that Youssef is sure Nathan has done himself, all muted greens and blues and yellows, abstract and bold and confident, just like him.

Nathan slips his shoes off, tugging the laces, pulling off his socks, and something about it is so intimate that Youssef breaks, right there. He kicks off his own shoes and walks over to Nathan, positioning himself in between his legs, and with Nathan sitting and Youssef standing, kind of leaning into Nathan, they're almost at eye level.

Youssef enjoys being slightly above Nathan, just for a moment. He stares at him, taking his time because he can. The forehead that shoots up into the little curls by his temples, the fragile wire of his glasses and the warm eyes behind them. High cheekbones, covered in soft freckles, a sharp jaw and full lips. He's beautiful. Youssef leans down, kisses the freckles that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about.

One cheek, then the other, then Nathan's forehead and the bridge of his nose, and then finally his mouth, lingering just a moment before bringing their lips together.

Nathan's mouth opens in a gasp as Youssef slides his tongue into his mouth, moving his body closer. Nathan moves his hands to Youssef's back, pulling him in, hands moving up under his shirt, warm and solid on the bare skin of Youssef's back. Youssef shivers, and Nathan slides his fingers around his sides and then up his stomach, then down, lingering right at the waistband of his jeans.

"Fucking hell," Youssef whispers, breaking the kiss because he can't fucking handle being touched like that, so gently and so intentionally.

"Is that okay?" Nathan asks, voice raspy and worried.

"Yes, holy shit, yes. For the love of everything, please don't fucking stop."

He clamps his mouth shut, scared he's said too much.

He doesn't ever let the depth of his desire be known. Not with anyone. Not ever before. Something about it feels too personal, too out of bounds. He was taught that wanting something that much was wrong. Especially wanting another man that much.

But Nathan, who had been looking up at him with a worried expression, dissolves into delighted laughter when Youssef speaks.

"I won't stop so long as you don't," he says, tugging Youssef in. "And I really, really don't want you to stop kissing me."

"Yeah?"

"You're surprisingly very good at it."

"Surprisingly?"

"In the best way possible, darling," says Nathan, and then his hand is at the back of Youssef's neck, tugging him back down and catching his mouth with his own, moaning into the kiss and making Youssef's knees go weak.

Youssef kisses him back, and Nathan's hands are on his skin, and then moving away, fumbling at the buttons on his shirt, slowly and deliberately undoing them.

When the last one is undone, Nathan's hands are at Youssef's shoulders, pushing the shirt off and guiding it gently over Youssef’s arms and hands, then tossing it onto the floor. And then they're breaking the kiss again, and Youssef is standing there, as bare as he's been in front of anyone in a long time, suddenly self-conscious. But Nathan's eyes are roaming over him, hungry, and his hands are trailing over Youssef's chest and he's looking up at Youssef and mouthing something that looks like "beautiful."

Nathan tugs his own sweater up and over his head, and pulls Youssef down onto the bed, both of them huffing and giggling when Youssef's back hits the mattress, and then Nathan is straddling him, kissing his neck and his chest and his shoulders, all the while grinding his hips into Youssef's, and it's all Youssef can do to keep breathing, just keep living in that moment, because the way Nathan is kissing him, touching him, is threatening to push him over the edge.

Youssef tugs Nathan back up then, because he needs to be kissing him right now or else he thinks he might explode into a million pieces. Nathan smiles into the kiss, but gives a groan when Youssef bites into his lower lip, tugging with his teeth, bucking his hips up slightly, making Nathan hiss through his teeth.

Youssef suddenly isn't thinking about his lack of experience, isn't thinking about the long and complicated road that led him here, isn't thinking about being embarrassed or ashamed or wrong in any way.

The way Nathan is touching him, the way Nathan is reacting to the way that Youssef touches him back, it gives him a bolt of confidence. 

So he throws his leg around Nathan and flips them over, a strange mirror of the way Nathan had done in that hotel room in Paris, and Nathan is breathless and making small whining noises in the back of his throat, begging Youssef to kiss him again.

Youssef does, kisses a line up from Nathan's belt buckle, over his stomach and chest, lingering at his neck, sucking the skin there a little longer than he maybe should, and finally to Nathan's mouth, which is begging and as desperate as Youssef feels.

They kiss like that for a while, hips grinding together, the friction becoming more and more unbearable, until Youssef pulls away and whispers, right into Nathan's mouth.

"Need you now."

"Yeah," Nathan says, his voice absolutely wrecked. "Fucking yeah. Right now."

So Youssef sits up, rolls off of Nathan, almost off the entire bed, and Nathan is grabbing for him and laughing--no, they're both laughing--and then Youssef is flopping back onto the bed and Nathan is kissing him again, as his hands are fumbling over Youssef's belt, growling a little in frustration as he tugs them, the roughest thing he's done all night, down and off and throws them onto the floor.

Nathan's touch disappears for a moment, and Youssef hears his jeans hit the floor only a few seconds later.

Then there's nothing between them, and Youssef gasps because Nathan is kissing his way down Youssef's body once more, and this time he doesn't stop, and Youssef's mind goes completely and blissfully blank because nothing exists outside Nathan and what he's doing with his hands and his mouth and it's so completely unlike anything that Youssef has ever felt before that he feels like he might honestly pass out.

His voice is hoarse from the noises he hasn't even registered himself making, and he's shaking and shaking and then he's absolutely done, dissolving under Nathan's touch and in the most vulnerable place he could possibly be, but he doesn't feel it, only feels comfortable and taken care of and in absolute ecstasy.

All he can think in those seconds right after is that he needs to be kissing Nathan, so he thinks he whispers something like, "Come here, please?" and Nathan is there again. He's holding Nathan's face in his hands and kissing him, chaste, compared to what else they're doing, and he can feel the exact moment that Nathan turns to jell-o in his arms. 

Then Youssef moves away to return the favor, and has a brief spike of panic because he really just has no idea what he's doing, but then it's happening and he wants it to happen and Nathan is gasping and talking to him and saying, "yes yes yes," and Youssef figures that it's not going too poorly, especially when Nathan dissolves even quicker than he himself had, with a shout and a string of curses.

After that, there's blissfully a whole lot of nothing. Youssef remembers grabbing his shirt off the floor and cleaning them both off, remembers Nathan standing up, pulling on some sweatpants and throwing a pair to Youssef, who presses them to his nose, just briefly, before pulling them on. They smell like Nathan's soap and a hint of something fresh, like being outside. He remembers Nathan falling back into bed beside him, pulling the cover over both of them, putting his arms around Youssef.

Nathan murmurs something like, "I really like you," or maybe, "I really liked that," Youssef isn't sure, either way he agrees and snuggles closer, their legs twined together and his face pressed into Nathan's chest.

~

The next morning, Youssef wakes up first, and he immediately starts freaking out. 

_ Oh my god that was our  _ **_first date,_ ** he thinks.  _ Oh god why did I say that? Did I really do that? What if I sucked? What if he wakes up and it's so awkward and he never wants to see me again because it's just a one night stand to him and now that he's gotten that, everything will end? Everything will end when I'm just starting to be really sure that I really like him... _

And it's almost like Nathan can sense his spiral, because he turns over and cracks an eye open, looking at Youssef for less than five seconds before putting his arms out.

"It's too early for that face," he says, voice raspy from sleep.

"What face? This is my face!"

"That's your thinking face, and whatever you're thinking, it's too early for it."

"I'm not!"

"Don't lie."

"... Fine."

"Do you want to tell me anything?"

Youssef pauses.

"Just," he says, voice much smaller than before, "Can't believe that happened."

Nathan laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, and pulling Youssef to him, kissing his temple.

"Me either, honestly. Not necessarily what I set out to do at the beginning of the night."

"Me either."

"It was pretty great though, yeah?"

"You think so?"

"Don't you?"

"Yeah," Youssef says, honestly. He smiles, tries to tamp it down, doesn't succeed. "It was pretty fucking great."

"Come here," Nathan says.

Youssef leans down, and Nathan kisses him. Just once, soft, without any expectation or room to make it anything other than just that: a kiss. A really amazing kiss.

"Just so you know," Nathan says a minute later. "I'm happy that happened last night. Even if it wasn't what I was expecting, it was perfect."

Youssef is quiet, feeling the warmth of the words wash over him, "Not too much, too quick?"

"Not even close."

They lay there for a while longer, in silence, Nathan's fingers idly running over Youssef's palm and up his wrist.

"Want some coffee?" Nathan says after a minute.

"Oh," Youssef says. "Yeah. If you're okay with me hanging around for a while."

"I literally just asked you," Nathan says, snorting. "Yes, please stay. As long as you want."

So they get out of bed, and Youssef adds a borrowed t-shirt to his borrowed sweatpants, and he makes the bed and straightens the room and folds their discarded clothes from last night while Nathan goes to make coffee, and soon Youssef can smell bacon and toast as well. He smiles to himself, pushing his nose into the scent of Nathan's shirt, closes his eyes, because he just wants to soak in this moment.

After a bit, he shyly goes into the kitchen, accepts a mug from Nathan (one sugar, splash of milk, because of course Nathan remembers the way that Youssef ordered his coffees in Paris), and sits at the counter while Nathan finishes making breakfast.

He's still a little uncomfortable, but he's making an effort to be relaxed.

It starts coming easier as the minutes go by. Nathan is funny and upbeat and still kind of sleepy all at the same time, and Youssef thinks that he really could stay in that kitchen forever, surrounded by bright morning light and the smell of bacon and coffee and frequent stolen kisses from Nathan, the space inside Youssef’s chest growing lighter and warmer as the morning goes on. 

He sips his coffee. He lets himself smile. He’s not desperate to leave.

In fact, he’s rather desperate to stay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!! I love these two a lot and if even one other person does as well, then I'm happy. 
> 
> (The title is a fragment of a Louise Glück quotation!)


End file.
